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Chapter 1: Build a Better Monster Trap
Scene 1: Shopping at Jumbo Mart
"Mousetrap... Pixie Glue... Roach Motel...," I said aloud, moving my finger along the different items populating aisle 16 of the Jumbo Mart. Pointsville's only general store was more crowded than usual, it seemed. Soft muzak played from the store's speakers in the background as I searched. "Ah! Here we go. Undead-Nip. Hmm, look at that. Not just for undead cats. Also works on human and plant zombies."
Patrick shook his head from behind the grocery list as an old lady pushing two full carts bustled between us. A security camera was mounted from the diamond-patterned ceiling and pointed in our direction. He looked at it as he said, "That's just what they want you to think, Geoffrey. You can't trust corporations." Crossing out Nip, Patrick looked over the list. "Looks like we just need rope and that special paint for the hieroglyphic runes in the containment ward."
"Right," I agreed as I picked up the sack of Undead-Nip and tossed it in the cart Patrick was pushing towards the aisle containing rope. It landed with a thud next to a pair of welding gloves and a heavy-duty flashlight. As we perused the different styles of rope for sale, Patrick asked a question.
"Why would a Mummy haunt a bowling alley, anyway?"
"Weremummy," I corrected him. "And it's annexing, not haunting the KingPin. Only ghosts and their subspecies haunt; banshees, poltergeists, etc."
Patrick had applied to be my apprentice right out of high school about 3 years prior. It was the only time I've seen him dress nicer than the khakis and tee he was currently in. Fortunately for him, my fashion sense is also less than formal. Antique Dealers don't really have a uniform, nor do Private Detectives.
I settled on a fifty foot length of braided rope and added it to the cart. This just left the paint, which of course, was clear across the store floor. The Jumbo Mart is Pointsville's biggest store and it falls prey to many of the shopping stereotypes: fluorescent lights, shiny floors, and the last thing you need never being nearby.
"Annexing? Why?" Patrick asked, crossing out rope from the list and moving the shopping cart along. One of the cart's wheels squeaked as he pushed.
"Haunting requires inhabitants," I answered. "A ghost may haunt a house, but really it's feeding off the people living there. Mummies and Were-Forms are both naturally territorial. Its goal is to remove inhabitants and take over. That's annexation."
Aisle 37 had paint cans organized by shelf according to use. The top shelf housed outdoor paint, while the middle shelf was for indoor varieties. I found my runic brand for magical wards on the bottom shelf, grabbed a can marked Moonbeam Gold and placed it in the cart.
"Yeah, ok. But the KingPin?" Patrick folded up the now completely crossed out shopping list and put it in his pocket. I walked next to him as he pushed the squeaky cart past the other shoppers towards checkout. In line in front of us was a family of three and the same old lady who had passed us earlier.
"Strange, I agree," I answered while we waited. It was ten minutes before our turn came. Patrick put the shopping cart's contents on the counter to be wrung up as I spoke. "There's only been a handful of Were-Forms documented in Pointsville. And they've appeared in places symbolic of wealth, like a bank."
The cashier, a teenage girl with a kind face, finished scanning and gave me the total. "$85.63," she said before adding in a chipper tone, "I thought only tourists wore Hawaiian shirts."
"I think of myself as a tourist of life," I told her while pulling out my wallet to pay. I turned back to face Patrick as we grabbed our bags. "Maybe it's the decor. They did use a lot of gold accents when they remodeled last year."
We passed under the giant store sign as we exited. The Jumbo Mart was one of the newer establishments in Pointsville, and it showed in its facade; Brightly painted letters alternating red and blue spelled out its name with a metallic sheen. Walking through the store's mostly full parking lot towards my van, a 1962 Chevrolet Corvair, I got within range to pick up J-Bo's SoulSpeak. I sensed he was still hungover and listening to a race on the radio. We were greeted with a whimper as I opened the trunk. I could feel the dog's headache as we loaded our purchases and noted that it had improved since the morning.
I started the engine and Jingle Bones, J-Bo's real name, gave a sharp bark as the van lurched forward. "That's your own damn fault, and you know it," I told him. "There's a reason people say 'Liquor before beer'." He whimpered again but settled down and fell asleep to the hum of the engine.
"Looks like he needs some Hair-Of-The-...well him," Patrick suggested. I chuckled.
"I'll brew something up back at the shop," I said. "I need him in tiptop shape tonight, considering my apprentice will be M.I.A." I shot Patrick a dirty look.
Patrick shrugged. "I told you I had a family obligation."
"You have a birthday party for your cousin!"
Patrick blinked. His face was blank. "It's not a birthday party. We're celebrating her end-of-year report card."
"Report card?" I asked hesitantly while making a right turn.
"Straight A's!" Patrick made an A with his hands to emphasize his excitement. "For the whole year!"
"That's… actually pretty impressive," I admitted. "Still, I'm not very happy about doing this job a man down."
"Yeah, I'm sorry about that. I sure hope Mr. Berry appreciates this."
"Ray knows what he's asking," I answered and reflected on the town hall meeting a few nights prior where I'd been approached for my help.